


In Plain Sight

by crowdedangels



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: 'Nice guy' Pete is just an act, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-25 12:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10764249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowdedangels/pseuds/crowdedangels
Summary: Deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Summary by Oscar Wilde. I'm not that eloquent. 
> 
> I shuggled with the timeline a bit - Janet's still alive and General Hammond is still in charge. Bear with me. 
> 
> Immeasurable and eternal thanks to Trickibee, for the title, betaing and everything else xx

“Shanny! Hey, Shanny! We gotta go.”

“Go?” He stirred creamer into his coffee, casting a quick glance to his partner's desk.

“They found a body down on Sixth, behind the pizza place.” Doltson swung his arms into his jacket and clipped his holster to his belt.

Pete licked the stirrer clean and dropped it into the trash, twisting the lid onto his travel mug. “Luigi or Joe?”

“They don't have any ID's yet.”

“ _No,_ which pizza place? Luigi's or Joe's on Sixth? I skipped lunch.”

Doltson rolled his eyes, “Get your ass in the car, Shanny.”

It was definitely the perp they were looking for, which didn't help their case. The alleyway the body was found in was dark and damp, arterial bloody spatter barely visible on the rain-slicked bricks. The smell of cordite hung low in the air. “Well, shit.”

Pete nodded, jotting a note about the body's left shoe being untied and a distinctive tattoo on the forearm. “CSU get anything?”

“Dunno, they wouldn't tell me.”

Pete looked further down the alley to where a white suit was bent low to the ground, a camera flash momentarily illuminating the night. “They got something down there.”

“Give 'em a go, but they'll just brush you off like they did me.”

“It's all in how you ask, Doltson,” he gave that shit-eating grin that drove his partner crazy – but not as crazy as when that worked.

“Sure it is. Don't come crying to me when you gotta dislodge a finger-print brush from an orifice.”

Pete chuckled as he turned on his heel, swiping his flashlight across his path towards the crime scene investigator. “Hey, whaddya got?” he crouched down.

“Nothing I'm telling you until I get it back to the lab,” came a muffled response behind a mask and camera.

“Hey!”

Pete and the CSI looked over to where the alley gave way to the next street, a guy bouncing on his toes in a dark hoody.

“Hey, you cops? Cos I saw something.”

Pete glanced behind him to where Doltson was talking to another cop at the top of the Sixth Street entrance before making his way cautiously toward the informant. It was too dark to make out a face, Pete's hand resting on his side arm. “You got a name?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Mickey Mouse.”

“Oh yeah? How's Minnie?”

“C'mon man...”

“Alright,” Pete was stood in front of him and still couldn't make out his face properly. The street lamp was out but the neon sign from Joe's Pizza Place seemed to show a glistening tattoo on the guy's forehead before he pulled his hood further over his face. “What did you see?”

The guy turned to face Pete, stood eerily still and lifted up the bottom of his sweater, “We're more interested in what you'll see.”


	2. Chapter 1

“How's our patient?” Jack asked, swinging around the doorway to Janet's office and casting a quick glance behind him to the entrances to the main infirmary and VIP rooms. She was stood at her desk and, again, he had to wonder how the diminutive doctor reached the shelf above it. Or anything, for that matter. He allowed a smirk to tilt his lips, however, at the fear he had seen her strike into the hearts of men twice her height.

“Pete should heal fine,” she answered, scribbling notes into her files. “I'm keeping him overnight for observation. Sarah's going to need more of Dr. MacKenzie's help than mine, I fear.”

Jack nodded. He didn't envy either of his team mates with their upcoming conversations but Sam's troubled him more – he was still uncomfortable that a civilian would be spending the night and he guessed Deep Space Telemetry wouldn't fly this time. He hoped she knew what she was doing. “Good. Can I?” he gestured to the wards.

“Sure. ...Hey, Sir?” she called him back, flicking her eyes up to see him kick his leg out as he stopped in his tracks. He turned back to her, his spin far too jaunty – practically a Charleston dance - for the situation she feared they were in. She suddenly lost the bottle to ask her question. “Never mind.”

Jack studied her furrowed brow and how precisely she was filing away her notes, tidying her desk. He crossed back to her, “Doc?”

She set the files down and leant against the desk, making him come further into her office and away from the hall. She crossed her arms, “Is it true? How he came here?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“She wouldn't have given the information over freely.”

“No,” he agreed.

“She told me,” her voice was lowered and she looked like she didn't want to telling tales or betraying confidences. “That he essentially looked her up in Police databases and tracked her down. She seems...flattered.”

His hands fisted in his pockets. “That's how I understand it.”

“Are you concerned?”

He wanted to say he was always concerned about and for her, but instead said, “We have to trust her judgement.”

She seemed to understand the apprehension behind his eyes that spoke of trust but caution. “Yes,” she nodded, happy with – or at least accepting - the unspoken agreement of concern.

He touched her arm as he passed and followed his earlier route, convinced once more of how lucky they were to have her.

He ducked into the main ward first, but saw Daniel and Sarah in an embrace and it wasn't wont to interrupt. He went to the next room and saw Sam sat on Pete's bed, her hand on his thigh, laughing at something he had said. The curtain to the bed was pulled over a bit so he couldn't make out Pete's face, but even if he could, he wouldn't have been able to look past Sam.

She looked relaxed – well, as relaxed as you could be given the situation – and radiant and happy. It suited her – relationships, love. He felt a pang of something he didn't want to think too hard on hit in his stomach.

“Sir,” Sam called, her smile still full though her hand left Pete's leg. “How's Sarah?”

“Daniel's with her,” he crossed his arms and leant against the doorway.

“Good. Sir, this is Pete Shanahan.”

He took a beat and stepped forward, Pete's child-like confused smile flitting between him and Sam.

“Pete, this is Colonel Jack O'Neill. My CO and second-in-command of the base.”

Pete watched the words leave Sam's mouth and his exuberance faltered with each syllable. “Er, hi. Sir. Hello.”

Jack folded his arms again and didn't take the outstretched hand. “You made quite the entrance.”

Sam swallowed and stood up, her head bowing slightly and hands crossing at her front as she quickly became Major Carter again.

Pete looked to Sam for reinforcement as he slowly dropped his hand to the bed, accepting defeat from the handshake. “I apologise if I jeopardised the mission. Sir.”

Jack nodded, looking to Sam and giving a quick humourless smile before looking back to Pete. “Doc says you'll heal.” He didn't know who was more awkward in that moment; Pete or Carter. He kinda loved it.

“Yes.”

Jack nodded again, “Well, that's... something.” Maybe he was enjoying the moment too much, but he also wasn't about to become the man's best friend. It wasn't in his nature for one, but he had also nearly gotten Carter killed, never mind the rest of them or the mission. And, yes, fine, a part of it was possibly that he was Carter's boyfriend, sure; he wanted to convey that he wouldn't think twice about ripping him a new one should it all end in heartbreak. He turned to Carter, “Hammond wants a word.”

Carter stood impossibly straighter, “Yes, sir.”

“Shanahan,” Jack repeated as a goodbye, leaving the room and smiling once he got to the corridor.

“Well, he's terrifying,” Pete whispered, his earlier grin reappearing but not being met with a similar.

She managed a small smile, “I'll be right back.”

Pete nodded, watching her leave with a concern that anything they may have had was just ruined. He closed his eyes and leaning his head back on the pillow.

He felt a vibration through his body and, though he was physically in the Infirmary VIP room of Cheyenne Mountain, his consciousness was a galaxy away. “I am inside the SGC,” he announced.

“Good.”

“Major Carter has instilled trust in me, though O'Neill is cautious.”

“Proceed to the next stage.”

“I will.” Pete dipped his head in respect and returned to his body.


	3. Chapter 3

“I can do it, I'm fine,” she was swinging her legs out of the truck when Jack jogged around to her and hooked an arm around her waist, supporting her weight. Areas of her face were various shades of purple and blue and there were stitches over the deeper lacerations to her eyebrow and cheek. He often got flashes to how she looked sat down in the rocks, tucked into his side while Teal'c made sure the Super Soldier stayed dead. He often found his fists clenched at his sides whenever he thought about it.

“You probably can, but I am not letting ol' Doc Fraiser move up my next physical because you put weight on that leg and popped a few stitches.”

She was badly hiding a grin at that, looking to her feet and throwing her arm over his shoulder.

“You got your keys?” he asked, his fingers pressing into her waist while he encircled her wrist on his shoulder, walking the path at her hobbled pace.

“Yeah, in my ba-”

She was cut off by the sound of a car door slamming and Pete's worried call, _“Sam?_ What the hell happened?”

He was stood in front of her, hands on her face, worried eyes scanning over her before she could tell him she was fine.

“You don't look fine and you always say that. Is she okay?” he asked Jack, who put his fingers up from her wrist in defence, shaking his head to tell him he was not stupid enough to speak a word for her.

“ _She_ can speak for herself and is fine, just on the couch for a few days,” she scowled at Pete.

“Doctor's orders,” Jack added, fully expecting to see her in the Mountain the next day, if not the one after.

“C'mon,” Pete shrugged himself under her arm where Jack had been, “Thanks, I got her from here.”

“Of course... yeah...” he stepped out of her embrace and tried to not show that he had seen her wince when Pete tried to walk her towards the door. Jack was taller which had been making it easier for her to keep off her injured leg. “I'll call you tomorrow.”

She looked over her shoulder, her brow pinched just the slightest which meant she was in more pain than she was letting on. “Thank you, Sir.”

He nodded slowly, ignoring how much it affected him to pass her over. He was back in his truck when Pete shut the door behind them. Jack heaved a sigh, watching the light turn on in the front room, before he drove off.

He subconsciously drummed along with the radio as he drove home practically on auto-pilot. He had no right to feel... whatever it was he was feeling. Jealousy? Was that it? It had been so long since he had felt anything like that. He had been doing a pretty good job lately of biting down anything other than appropriate feelings for her, but hearing her humming in the elevator and concluding the only possible reason was because she was dating someone... that had been a gut punch for which he hadn't been prepared.

He had assumed he wouldn't meet this guy unless it became serious – and what relationship could be serious with this job? You're never home, you're never sure if you're going to make it through the day even if you're on-world – never mind off-world - and you're always nursing some kind of injury be it physical or mental. It wasn't a job on which you could sustain a relationship, no matter how much you wanted to.

Once he had given himself a talking to, while sat in the mess hall with a slice of pie, he had spent the remainder of the afternoon on the pretty safe assumption that she'd have a few kicks, have a bit of fun and he'd be ultimately blissfully non-the-wiser about it all.

And then the explosion. He couldn't see her when the smoke cleared and then saw her under some guy. “Carter?” He'd asked, dumbly. “Sir, it's Pete,” she had replied. And suddenly he had a face. A face and a body and a voice and there he was, making her smile and laugh and all right under his nose. Dredging up thoughts and feelings he had locked away and making his stomach flip when he thought of her humming and why; how this guy got to kiss her goodnight, have her tucked up into him as they slept, wake up next to her. Make her laugh and see her actually relaxed. Do things to and with her that would make her hum a tune the next day...

He cranked the radio up, opened the window and let the frigid air bite into his cheeks until he thought of something else.

 

\--Xx--

 

His thumb hovered over 'call' on-and-off all morning. He said he'd call but it felt strange to do it if she was making house with Pete. Eventually, after cleaning out his fridge and celebrating with a beer, he pressed the button; deciding he would call if it was Daniel, or anyone in the SGC, so he had to put his concerns to the side.

“You survived the night, then?” He smiled when she answered, propping his feet up onto the table and settling into the couch cushions.

She gave a chuckle, _“Hmm, just about.”_

“Good to hear. You feeling okay?”

“ _I'm fine.”_

He didn't believe her. “...I'm gonna assume you feel like shit but Pete's still there and is fussing?”

“ _He's making pancakes,”_ she whispered, a tightness in her voice.

“You want me to come bust you out? We could go get burgers.”

“ _Don't tempt me.”_

“What about some work emergency? Siler spilled orange juice on some doohickey and it's having a catastrophic effect on the system. And his hair.”

“ _Ow, ow, don't make it laugh!”_ Her voice went quieter as if she had pulled the phone away from her, _“No, I'm fine. Just some water? …Sorry, I'm back. Is the base okay? Siler hasn't actually done that, right?”_

“Still in one piece, as far as I'm aware. It's only a matter of time before Siler does that, though.”

“ _He does seem to have a knack...”_ her voice smiled.

“So you gonna be okay there? I _can_ bust you out, just say the word.”

“ _The word?"_

He thought for a beat, “Guinness.”

“ _Guinness?”_

“Is that you just repeating or you saying the word? I'll get my keys!”

“ _Don't make me laugh! I'm fine, but will keep it in mind. I'm hoping to get to the base tomorrow.”_

“Doc Fraser will meet you at the doors and turn you straight back around, you know that, right?”

“ _I'm crafty, I can deal with Doctor Fraser.”_

“I like you on painkillers, you're fiesty.”

“ _Crafty and fiesty, they were my nicknames in college.”_

“Oh really?” He smiled around his beer bottle. “Mine was-”

“ _Sorry, Sir. I gotta go. Pancakes are up...”_

“Right. Go. Get some rest. Don't kill anyone.”

“ _I'll try my best, sir.”_

“See ya.”

 

\--xx--

 

“The plan is proceeding well.”

“She trusts you?”

“Yes.”

“And O'Neill?”

He snarled.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was still on medical leave when Janet had a weekend off and arranged to meet her at the dog park. The doctor was sat on one of the far benches, a finger wedged in a book but her face upturned to the sun. “Having fun there?”

“Mmm,” Janet mused, her sunglasses rising on her cheeks as a smile formed. “I'm sitting on a beach. George Clooney just handed me a mojito and is rubbing lotion on my shoulders.”

“I can come back...”

“No, it's fine. I can pause until later,” she flipped her sunglasses up to the top of her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Getting there. No Cassie?”

“Just me and Jack,” she gestured to their dog running rampant in the fenced area. Young Cassie was adamant it should be named after the Colonel considering he had brought it for her. Janet found it very embarrassing to admonish the poor dog when it got...amorous... “Cassie's out with Mike.”

“Mike? I thought it was Dominic.”

“Oh, Dominic was three guys ago.”

“Wow.”

“I know. I'm jealous of my teenage daughter's love life. Speaking of love lives..."

“Subtle.”

“Thank you.”

“It's going...well,” though Sam's words were vague, her burgeoning grin was anything but.

“Just 'well'? Come on, I need details. I need to live vicariously through you and Cassie until George tracks me down.”

Sam laughed, a faint flush colouring her cheeks. She told her about the dancing, how funny he was, how he cooked for her. She mentioned how special she felt with him, how interested he was in her work.

“How interested? ”

“...he understands the importance now, but...”

“...But?”

She turned in her seat to face her friend, “I think he gets jealous.”

“Of your job?”

“Maybe? Maybe of my,” she chose her wording carefully. “friendships there.”

“And you're certain he's... genuine?”

“Genuine?”

Her voice lowered, “Human.”

“Janet, you know he is! You saved his life at the base! How can you think-?”

“Because he came out of nowhere and quickly finagled his way into the base! And there's just something...I just want you to be careful.”

“Janet...” her eyes were narrowed in annoyance.

“I don't want you to throw your career away because of a guy. There aren't enough women in the forces as it is, and for a decent lay-”

“-Janet!”

“Just be careful, is all I'm saying. I just- there's something about him I don't trust yet.”

“He isn't your ex-husband.”

“No, and I wouldn't wish that asshole on anyone. Though I hear he's doing just swell with Tiffany-Brittany.”

“No...”

“Oh yes.”

“Tiffany. Brittany.”

Janet pulled a takeaway cup from her side, sipping at her cooling tea through a smug smile. “Asshole.”

 

–

“How was Janice?” Pete asked, wrapping his arm around her waist as they walked through the park to her house.

“ _Janet_ as fine.”

“Janet, right.”

Sam smiled, “She essentially told me to tell you to watch your back if you hurt me.”

“I thought all your boyfriend's died anyway.”

“Oh they do, but she's never had to kill them before. She doesn't trust you yet.”

“What's not to trust?” he asked with shock and humour, holding his hands up in defence.

“We're not in a very trusting profession...”

“Wait, does she think I'm an alien?”

“It might have been mentioned...”

“Damn. I've been caught out. I'm actually one of those snake things, here to gain your trust and then kill you all.”

“That's not something to joke about, Pete.”

He stopped and spun her to face him, amusement sparkling his eyes. “I'm sorry. It just sounds... I've never been accused of being an alien before. Pig, yes; a dog by a few girls in college, but never an alien.”

“That's the life I lead. It takes a lot for me to trust people. Just... just don't make me regret putting that trust in you, okay?”

He leaned in and kissed her, pulling her tightly into him. “C'mon, let's get some food.”

 

\---xx---

 

“The doctor has concerns.”

“I should give her more credit.”

“Carter remains loyal.”

“She trusts you over her friend?”

“I believe so.”

“Ensure so.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

It was a day of days, in a year of them. She stood outside the door to the hospital VIP room, exhaustion seeping from every pore, bone and muscle that she had. Her heart was beating furiously, her head chanting for her to keep it together, stop crying for now. See the colonel, go to Cassie, go home. She just wanted someone to hold her but she couldn't trust herself to stay together if they did. She didn't understand how she was still able to cry anything.

She picked at a lose thread on her sleeve, her mind filled with Cassie. They had spoken on the phone- well, Sam had spoken, Cassie had managed a few words before Janet's sister had taken over. Sam had called Helen as soon as Janet had been officially declared killed in action and she had managed to make the drive from Oklahoma in a time that 'speed demon' Samantha Carter would have, any other day, been impressed with. Sam couldn't tell Cassie over the phone that her Mom was gone but she also wasn't able to leave the base any time soon, so had to call reinforcements.

“I'll be leaving soon,” Sam had told Helen.

“We'll be here.”

“Should I...get anything? On the way?”

“Nothing will help, honey.”

“No,” she breathed. Helen wasn't the biggest fan of the Air Force, but understood how much her sister had loved it and how much it had meant to her. It felt bad to be thinking of Janet in the past-tense already. She sighed, “I'll be there as soon as I can.”

Helen had clicked off and Sam wiped at her eyes, tried to compose herself before she walked through the halls. She needed to see the Colonel; Needed to know he was still there, still alive, still solid before she could go to Cassie.

She took a breath and knocked on the VIP room door. He bade her entry as he was fixing his tee shirt, the glaring white of the bandages circling his ribs in stark contrast to his tanned skin. A part of her that she didn't have the energy to quiet at that moment just wanted feel the warmth of that skin beneath her hands. She wanted to lie down on the bed, tucked into side and listening to his heartbeat until she was convinced it was real and it soothed her to a month-long sleep.

“Hey,” he said, breaking her from her reverie.

She blinked back the thoughts of cocooning herself in and with him. “They said you were up and about.”

“Still a little...tender, but they said I can go home so...” He carefully shrugged his arms into his jacket. “How's Cassie doing?”

“She's a strong kid. Janet's sister is with her.” She took a breath, tried to find the words she wanted to say but couldn't with how dark his chocolate brown eyes looked as they bore into her. She looked away, back at him, “Sir, I just wanted to say...” She took a composing breath, finding she couldn't trust her voice if she was looking at him and taking in the sadness etched on his face.

He could see her chin quivering, the steel grip she had on her nerves begin to falter as her eyes filled with tears. “I'm really glad you're okay.”

He stepped closer, too close. His eyes dropped to her lips, back to the sparkling, tear-filled blue eyes, to her lips and back again to watch her eyes widen in anticipation and apprehension. It almost felt like he would be taking advantage to have kissed her then – she was heartbroken, vulnerable... and dating someone else.

“C'mere,” he pulled her into him. He knew he shouldn't have, wasn't supposed to, but how could he not have in that moment? She'd been through so damn much lately and now this? She'd lost her best friend, Cassie had lost her mom and she'd thought she'd lost him. She hugged him tightly, his hand smoothed up her back to hold the nape of her neck. “I'm here. Not going anywhere.”

She nodded against him, feeling a sob wrack through her. He held her as closely as his bruised ribs would allow, and tighter still when he felt her fist bunch his shirt at his back. Her breath was tickling his neck and he just wanted to move her towards the bed, lie with her until she didn't hurt anymore.

“You want a ride home?”

“Pete's coming,” she pulled back as if that had signalled the return of her senses. “He's going to drop me at Cassie's.”

He cursed the question a little, not wanting to lose the contact. He nodded, “I'll walk you out.”

When they got to the surface, Pete was waiting as close to the entrance as he was allowed, a young SF staring at him menacingly. Sam bid Jack a goodnight and fell into Pete's arms as soon she could; giving him a kiss and letting him hold her tightly.

“You okay?” Pete asked.

She shook her head, “I can't believe she's gone.”

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“We lost a two from other teams, some civilians.” She didn't mention Jack's near miss and wasn't really sure why. The hug had felt too personal, a pang of guilt coursing through her because she had sought comfort in his arms before she had her boyfriend's. Plus, she didn't really want the argument.

“Let's get you to Cassie.”

Jack watched them go, Pete's arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist. He drove in the other direction.

 

\---xx---

“We had a plan! A deal!”

“And it was not moving quickly enough.”

“I should have been informed.”

“An opportunity presented itself. The Tau'ri were sloppy in their naivety. The Jaffa struck with my orders.”

“I was...surprised and unprepared for Sam's fallout.”

“ _The female_ will further not suspect you.”

Pete spun on the spot, his annoyance not resonating. He raked a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Tell me, did O'Neill survive?”

“O'Neill?”

“He too was hit. We had hoped gravely.”

Pete tried to not show shock. Sam hadn't said anything about Jack being injured. Why would she had hidden that? He found himself feeling something too human for his liking. “O'Neill is alive.”

“Pity.”

“I must return,” Pete said, feeling Sam snuggle into his side a galaxy away from where his consciousness was.

Pete returned to his body, hearing the final resonating words of “I am growing impatient,” as he left. Sam's head was on his chest, her arm encircling him. He couldn't bring himself to kiss her head and tried to sleep.

 


	6. Chapter 6

He hadn't been caught yet, as he stood against the doorway to her lab. She had yawned three times in the last five minutes, had scribbled out half of whatever she was writing in her notebook. She looked exhausted.

He was trying to not let it worry him, but how could it not? The team had been placed on leave after Janet's death and Jack's injury – Daniel had gone to Chicago for a few days, checking in on Sarah and wanting “fresh, Earth surface air”. Jack had sassed that he was definitely going to be getting 'fresh' air in Chicago in early spring and to take extra layers.

Teal'c had gone through the Stargate to Ry'ac and Bra'tac, wanting to be with family as he dealt with the loss. He was feeling Janet's passing keenly.

Sam had been coming to the base as normal and burying herself in different experiments, but Jack could see the toll it had all taken on her. She had ripped poor Felger a new one just the day before and Jack swore he had seen the exact moment the man's heart had broken – his crush on Carter wasn't exactly a well kept secret (nothing was with Felger). She had apologised later that day, which Felger had heartily accepted,and helped him out with some science problem he had been having. The man had been beside himself, but had made her smile which Jack was glad to see.

She kept checking her cell phone and cursing herself for checking it in the first place. Jack could only assume something was hinky with Pete and his blood began to boil at the thought of the man messing her around when she was at her most vulnerable.

The smell of lunch wafted through the halls and Jack followed his nose to the mess hall, grabbing two sandwiches, two large coffees, a slice of pie and a bowl of blue jello and made his way back to her lab. He placed the laden tray on top of a tome she had been leafing through and demanded, “Eat.”

She was startled from her thoughts and checked her watch, surprised to find so much time had already passed. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don't thank me until you've tasted it.”

She smiled, taking the proffered plate and closing the lid to her laptop. “Heard from Daniel?” She asked, lining up a bite.

“Got a text from him earlier. Sarah's planning to take him to the zoo.”

“I can't imagine Daniel in a zoo.”

"Not as a visitor.”

She laughed as she brought the mug of coffee to her lips.

“What are you working on?”

“SG12 brought back something that works on Naquadah.”

“Something?”

“I haven't figured out what it does yet, other than it's slightly magnetic and has a porous outer shell.”

“...interesting..”

“More like 'confounding'.”

“That was my next descriptor.” He sipped at his coffee, proud of himself to rise a small smile out of her again. “How's Pete?”

She swallowed the bite and picked up her mug, all the while avoiding his eyeline. “He's fine.”

He stayed quiet and she eventually filled the silence with whatever was on her mind. “I think he's having trouble at work.”

“Oh?”

“He's been in a foul mood the last few days. Since Janet...” her words died off. She sipped her coffee to collect herself and continued, “He wants to go away for a few days.”

“Oh?” Jack repeated.

“He thinks it'll be good for me. To get away from the SGC. He wants to go to Fowler.”

“Fowler?” Jack had seen the name on road signs but that was about it. “What's in Fowler?”

“Not a lot, from what I gather. I think he opened a map and closed his eyes and that's where his finger pointed.”

“Ah. When do you go?”

“Tonight. Is that okay?”

“You're on vacation, Carter. You could leave now.”

She didn't want to go, he could see it in her eyes. Whether that was because she wanted familiar things around her while she healed emotionally from the last few weeks, because Jack had heard of nothing about Fowler other than it had something to do with a place called 'Bogsville', or because it was a weekend away with just Pete, he wasn't quite sure. He almost offered to pull rank and demand she stay local but that would have been pushing lines.

“He could be right. I've been trying to get to you up to the cabin for years, maybe Fowler will do the trick.”

She didn't seem convinced. “Maybe.” She was going to say something else, her mouth beginning to form the words but was interrupted by the bells and whistles of an incoming wormhole and Sergeant Harriman's voice announcing it was of unknown origin. Jack swung around on the chair, “I'd better go see who's at the door.” He saw her clamp her mouth shut and nod before he left the lab, folding the last bite of sandwich into his mouth.

The wormhole didn't amount to much – a late entry of an IDC and a radio transmission from SG8. Jack moseyed his way back through the hall to her lab to find her packing up. “I'm going to head out, Sir.”

“Walk you out?”

“Meet you at the elevators in ten?”

They went their separate ways in search of their civilian clothing and met up, as agreed, in front of the elevator block. Both signed out and Jack thumbed for the top floor of the first carriage. “Pete meeting you?”

She nodded. “I'll have my cell with me. I'll take a sat phone as well, in case the signal's poor.”

“You're going on vacation, Carter. You should be planning how many shoes to pack or...something.” He almost mentioned about choosing lingerie, but quickly swallowed the words and image.

“You have any plans for the down time?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “The usual. Truck's been clunking, actually, may be buried under the hood for a few days.”

She nodded, watching the numbers rise above the door. “Oh, sir? Erm, I didn't mention to Pete that you got injured.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She was wringing her hands, “Not that he wouldn't be concerned about you, but-”

“Hey, hey,” he held his hands up, “You don't have to justify your pillow talk to me.”

“No, it's not like that-”

“Carter,” he held onto her shoulders, calming her gestures, “It's fine.”

She slowly nodded, relishing in the feel of his warmth seeping through her jacket. Her mind taunted her with memories of his hug after Janet, of the desire to curl into his side on the bed.

The carriage jerked to a halt, the mid-mountain floor number lighting up and doors starting to release. He quickly snatched back his hands, moved his eye-line from her lips and stepped back to the wall.

She stepped back too, pulling on her jacket as if her clothing needed to be put back in place. _Guilty conscience,_ she chastised. In doing so, she realised she had left her cell phone on the bench in the locker room. “Oh, shoot...” she muttered, patting down all her pockets as the doors pulled apart. “My cell.”

He slammed his hand between the doors.

“You go ahead, I need to go grab it.”

“I can wait.”

“No, no, you go. I'll see you on Monday. Call me if you need me.”

He checked for any hidden apprehension before stepping into the hallway. “See you Monday. And Carter? Relax.”

“Yes, sir.” She said with as much conviction and implied salute as she could as the doors closed. Jack tried to ignore the look of apprehension he thought he saw before she was gone.

He heaved a breath and thumbed for the next elevators to the surface. He jostled his hold-all further onto his shoulder when he was walking into the sunlight, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes. He nodded hello to Pete, stood on the other side of the check-point as he signed out. “Carter's on her way.”

“Oh? Right. Thanks”

“Yeah, she left her cell.”

Pete nodded, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses. “Right.”

Something was...amiss, but Jack couldn't place what. He swung his bag on his shoulder again, grimacing slightly from the pull to the still-bruised ribs.

“How are you?” Pete asked, tucking his hands beneath his arms and bouncing slightly on his toes. “Since the attack? Goa'uld, right?”

Jack looked around, checking who's ears were local. “I'm fine.” He furrowed his brows, “Carter told you about that?”

“We tell each other everything, Jack.”

“Right. 'Course.” Something was up, but he couldn't decide what, nor what it meant. He looked behind him to see Carter signing out. “Got your cell?”

She nodded, stepping closer to Pete as he awkwardly flung an arm around her waist. Sam flushed pink, her eye line dropping before meeting back with Jack's.

“We should get going,” Pete muttered, bouncing again on his toes.

Jack hooked a thumb over his shoulder towards his truck, “See you Monday, enjoy Fowler.”

“Bye, Sir.”

He flung his bag into the back of the truck and took a glance back to Carter. She was climbing into Pete's car, catching Jack's eyes as Pete turned over the ignition. She gave a small wave as the car pulled away.

-Xx-

 

He tried the key again, the engine clunking in response but not turning over. "Damnit!" He muttered under his breath, slamming a hand into the steering wheel. He looked for Pete's car but it and Carter had already left.   
  
He grabbed the keys and his bag from the back of the truck and went in search of Siler.  
  
Three signatures and two elevator rides later, he found the jack-of-all-trades in a hazmat suit in the Gate Room.   
  
"Jack? I thought I sent you home," General Hammond questioned, turning away from the observation window.   
  
"You did. My truck had other ideas. Can you spare Siler?"  
  
"Not for while yet; we had some strange readings come through the Gate."  
  
"Oh?" He scanned over the monitors displaying the graphs and moving figures – he knew enough about Stargate science that it wasn't good and the elevating levels of radiation could prove disastrous. "Have you called Carter? This looks bad."  
  
"No, she needs the break. As do you.”

He held up his keys, “Hey, I tried. When you're through can you send Siler to the mess hall?”

“'Course.”

“And if you need any extra brains on this matter,” he gestured to the monitors, “You know where to find me.”

Hammond gave him a smile, “Thanks.”

Jack spun on his toes with a thumbs-up and headed back through the halls. A cup of coffee and a slice of cake later, Jack pulled his computer out of his bag and resigned himself to doing the paperwork he had been avoiding. He logged into the system – through the numerous security measures – and typed approximately four words of a staff evaluation before he had a search engine up and had typed 'Pete Shanahan'.

_'About 387,000 results (0.54 seconds)'._

He narrowed the search parameters. 'Pete Shanahan + Denver'.

' _MISSING DENVER COP'._

Jack clicked on the first news story.

“ _Denver police have today announced they are searching for missing Detective Peter Shanahan._  
  
Detective Shanahan was last seen on Wednesday 6th at 5.45pm when investigating the discovery of the body of known criminal Rogelio Diaz.   
  
Det Shanahan's partner Jimmy Doltson reports Shanahan was last seen when a member of the public called him over at the scene with information about the murder. Doltson spoke with the Medical Examiner. and returned to find Shanahan was missing. An extensive search was conducted however Detective Shanahan has not been seen since.   
  
Dolston reports the member of the public was approximately 6ft tall, wearing a dark hoody with a hat beneath that had a golden emblem.   
  
The Denver Police Department ask anyone with any information--'

The accompanying photograph belayed any last doubt that the story was about Carter's Pete. It took less than a minute for it to all fall into place before he scrambled to pull his cell phone from his pocket, dialling her speed dial and cursing her to answer. He hung up and redialled, closing the lid of the laptop and tucking it under his arm as she ran through the corridors in search of a satellite phone. He had both phones calling her numbers and neither was getting any answer.

“Shit. _Shit!”_

He grabbed the phones and the laptop and ran to the observation deck. Hollering “Move!” to unsuspecting SFs en route, before taking the steps two-at-a-time. “General!”

“Jack?”

He pushed paperwork out of the way on the desk – earning a harsh word from Sgt Harriman - and opened up the laptop, giving a flourish to the screen as he redialled the phones.

“Colonel, what am I looking at here?”

“What are- General, that's Carter's Pete! He's a Goa'uld!”

Both Hammond and Harriman were at the mercy of whiplash for how quickly they flicked between the computer screen and Jack. “How do you get from missing police officer to Pete being a Goa'uld?”

He scrolled to a point in the article, reading, “'Approximately 6ft tall, wearing a dark hoody with a hat beneath that had a golden emblem'. The 'golden emblem' is the First Prime tattoo, this guy is a Jaffa, Pete has some kind of symbiote and I can't get hold of Carter.”

“Jack-”

He clutched the phones in his hands and practically held them as if praying, begging for the Hammond to just believe him. “Sir, trust me. It all adds up.”

Hammond looked to him, mouth slightly agape and shock, concern and disbelief flitting across his features. Usually, he would have no issue believing his 2IC, but this just seemed too far-fetched! But something in Jack's eyes... “Alright, son. You get Daniel back here, Sergeant Harriman will contact Teal'c and I'll have a word with the President.”

A breath escaped Jack, “Thank you.” He dialled Carter again on the sat phone and Daniel on his cell phone while Hammond stole away to his office.

“ _No, Jack. No. I'm at the airport, about to board. I'm on vaca-”_

“Carter's in trouble.”

There was a beat. _“I'm on my way.”_

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

“So let me get this straight,” Daniel said in that slow voice with tight lips, crooked eyebrows and narrowed eyes that mean he's about to tell you that you sound nuts. “Pete - Sam's boyfriend - is a Goa'uld and got Janet killed because she'd figured it out before you?”

“I know how it sounds, alright?”

“Really? Because I'm not sure you do...”

“It does sound hard to believe, O'Neill. I have not sensed him to be a Goa'uld when I have been in his presence.”

“What, all _two_ times?” He pushed off from his seat on the window ledge. “Anyway, you guys didn't sense any snakeheads in that Oregon town that was crawling with them. And Nirrti was futzing about with human physiology, maybe there isn't even a symbiote! Maybe he's all Patty Hearst and brainwashed!”

“...Brainwashed...”

“Daniel...”

“Jack...”

“Daniel, I don't know, alright? I don't know. I just know that something isn't right and Carter is in danger.”

“But why? Why Sam?”

“Because she's the brains behind this whole thing!” he flung his arm in the direction of the Stargate. “Without her, we wouldn't understand or be able to do half the things we do. She's a threat to them.”

“Okay, so why you? Why did they try to kill you as well as Janet?”

“Because I'm a pain in their _mikta_! I've topped their most wanted list for years! And...”

“And what, O'Neill?”

“And killing you would push her straight into Pete's arms.”

“General Hammond, I...” Jack stood to attention as George entered the briefing room. His brow was furrowed and hands clenched at his sides.

“Killing Doctor Fraiser did enough to weaken her resolve but killing you would damn near break her, Jack.” He looked straight at O'Neill, his fists balled at his sides. “I've just been told that half the Colorado Springs fire station is outside Major Carter's home. Neighbours reported an electrical 'beam' coming from her home.”

“Beam?” Daniel asked. “Like, Asgard?”

“I'm thinking more like Goa'uld.”

“Anubis,” Teal'c offered.

“Exactly.”

Jack busied his hands, scratching at the back of his neck in lieu of punching them through the window. “She could be anywhere by now.”

“I will go to the Tok'ra,” Teal'c announced, standing up. “They may know where he is now based.”

“Jack, I told the Fire Chief you'd meet him at Major Carter's home. Dr Jackson, go with Teal'c.”

Daniel nodded, he and Teal'c standing up and itching to leave.

“You have a go. Find our girl.”

Daniel and Teal'c ran from the room, passing the General on their way to gear up and get to the current Tok'ra home-world.

“Sir,” Jack called as Hammond was about to go back into his office to inform the President. “Carter and I, we... we never-”

“I know, son. It's a damn shame.”

Jack was left dumbstruck as Hammond returned to his office. He took a few beats to resolve his nerves, bashing his fist into the table before trotting to the locker room.

–

Three fire trucks were parked outside her home. He saw the flashing lights in the night sky for two blocks and his stomach churned with each stop-sign and red light he defied on the way.

The beam sightings likely meant she wasn't there any more – they'd have heard by now if there was a body – but what state did it catch her in? Did she know she was going to be transported? Did she know Pete was a Goa'uld or was he playing along? He had never hated Goa'ulds more, and he'd had some reasons to over the years.

He parked Daniel's car next to a fire engine and was striding towards Chief Holbrook, “What do you know?”

“No fire, no sign of any damage but something's happened in there, Jack.”

Jack turned to run to Sam's front door that now boasted a boot-sized hole – Pete, or the firemen gaining entry? Her normally neat, precise home was in disarray – books, papers, cushions had been thrown about, a broken chair was in the hallway and there was a large depression in the drywall that he liked to think was where she had tried to throw Pete through the wall.

“It was empty when we got here,” the Chief informed, as Jack peered into the living room. A small suitcase was against the chair, her cell and sat phone on the cushion.

Jack's jaw tightened. He turned on his heel for the door and tapped the Chief's arm as he passed, “Thanks, Bill.”

“Jack? Is Carter okay?” he called.

“She better be.”

–

General Hammond met Jack at the elevator. “Daniel and Teal'c are gearing up and will be ready to go in five minutes.” They fell into step as they headed for the locker room, “You'll Gate to a Tok'ra safe world and then Jacob Carter will be waiting with an Alkesh. It should take approximately two hours by hyperspace window to get to where the Tok'ra suspect they are holding Major Carter.”

“Her place was trashed. Looks like she gave as good as she got.”

“I'd expect nothing less.”

“What are the orders once we're there?”

They stopped outside the locker room, and Hammond knew the real question being asked. “Whatever you need to do to get her back.”

Jack placed his hand on Hammond's shoulder, before turning his heel and joining the rest of SG1.

Jack, Teal'c and Daniel were on the ramp suited, booted and armed within ten minutes, and signalling for Walter to “Dial 'er up!”

Walter counted out the progression of chevrons on the loud speaker while the 'Gate spun and the male contingent of SG1 itched to just get going and get to Sam. The wormhole engaged with a beautiful whoosh of blue as Jack turned to General Hammond who waited on the concourse.

“God speed.”

The unspoken 'give 'em hell for me' and 'bring her back' were understood by all as they crossed the event horizon to the humid, arid air of P4X 3PF. They quickly trotted the short distance to the waiting Alkesh, with guns drawn as a precaution.

Jack felt a darkness in the pit of his stomach as he watched the wormhole disengage and bay doors close on the ship.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger and then lack of posting! I had a last minute decision to not take my laptop abroad with me, not factoring in that meant no chapters for a bit. Next chapter will be up Saturday and then the usual schedule. Thanks for sticking around/coming back!

“Jack,” Jacob called from the bridge of the Alkesh, his hands on the glowing red steering device as they began to rise and fly. “You ready for a fight?”

Jack ignored the question and set his pack down on the floor, crossing between compartments and taking the seat next to the older man. He jostled slightly en route as the flyer broke into space and Jacob set the course for the planet on which Sam was being held.

“Jacob, where's the - _Jesus_!” Jack had spun around on the chair, just now seeing the young Tok'ra who was stood quietly against the far wall.

“That's Tymar.”

“Wait, let me get this straight; a Tok'ra gets in trouble and we send all the forces. One of ours is in trouble, the _daughter_ of a frickin' high ranking Tok'ra, and we get her Pops and a twelve year old?”

Daniel caught the twitch of embarrassment on Tymar's face. “He doesn't mean that. He's sure you're a formidable warrior.”

“No, I _mean_ he is twelve years old. What the hell, Jacob?”

“There is dissent in the ranks, Jack. Tymar is young but he will be of help. After Daniel and Teal'c informed us of the situation, it was a miracle I was able to get this Alkesh.”

“Tok'ra too good to fight Anubis?” Jack was seething.

“That's the thing, Jack,” he kept his voice calm against Jack's understandable rage. He was feeling it too, along with apprehension and unspeakable anger that his daughter was out there somewhere fighting for her life. “This isn't Anubis. Not any more.”

Daniel asked the question, before Jack could formulate enough expletives to add to it. “What do you mean 'not any more'?”

Jacob gestured for Tymar to take over the steering device and stood before the others to update on their quickly gained intel. “We have a guy in Anubis' circle – he had a young symbiote blend with a human approximately three months ago with the intention of infiltrating the SGC. I had no idea he was also seducing my daughter.” He swallowed, his eyes were wide and fists clenched. He lowered his head slightly, closed his eyes and then Selmak took over the explanation. “Forgive Jacob, he is unable to detach his emotions from this situation, as I am sure you can appreciate. Anubis orchestrated the blending in the hope that the young symbiote would be able to use the human's emotions more readily than a more mature Goa'uld who has learned to shut down the host's influence.

“We do not know this Goa'uld's name other than that of the host, Pete. It is believed Pete and Anubis conversed regularly about the progression of their mission, however, Pete began to have protestations and would argue with Anubis. The culmination of which came when Doctor Frasier was killed and Jack was injured. Anubis had not consulted Pete fully about this and was as taken by surprise by it all, as you were.

“They fought and Pete was discarded from Anubis' forces. Pete was only just able to escape with his life and return to Earth and Major Carter.”

“So he has decided to complete the original mission without the aid of Anubis?”

“He still has a few Jaffa who went with him, Teal'c, but yes, it seems he is largely unaided.” Selmak nodded and Jacob returned. He instantly flushed with embarrassment for having lost control of his emotions. No one blamed him in the slightest. “Anubis is currently across the Galaxy tearing a few holes in to the Novians – the majority of the Tok'ra ships and forces are fighting alongside them right now.”

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. “So we have you, the kid and an Alkesh.”

“We've beat them with less.”

Jack wished he had Jacob's optimism.

“Don't be mistaken, though. Pete still holds the inherent Goa'uld memories and has the Police muscle memory. He must not be underestimated.”

Teal'c gave a slow nod of understanding, anticipating little issue in overpowering Pete.

“Selmak has been to this outpost that Pete has set up shop in. He knows how to get around,” he pulled out a roll of parchment from an inside pocket that looked like it had been hastily tucked away from the creases and folds. Jacob fanned out the paper and revealed a crudely drawn map of winding corridors and rooms. Between them, they formulated a plan.

“So, Tymar will stay on the ship, cloaked and just out of range after getting us close enough to ring down. Daniel and I will set diversions here, here and here and meet Jack and Teal'c here to help to get Sam.”

Happy with the plan, they sat back against the walls of the ship, cursing again the lack of seating, and tried to rest as much as they could for the remaining forty-five minutes or so of the journey.

Jack lay down as they hurtled through hyperspace, attempting to stop his mind concocting visions of how she was, where she was, what was happening to her. He had every faith she was putting up one hell of a fight.

He thought back to when he caught her humming in the elevator, to the few times he had met Pete. How in the hell had he not known he was a Goa'uld? Every fibre of his being, every course of blood through his veins, was driven by anger: at himself for not knowing Pete had been a snakehead, for discrediting his bad feeling about him as being jealousy, at the Air Force for being somewhat complicit in the FUBAR because he and Sam couldn't just be together. At Sam for trusting Pete, at Pete for getting caught and blended. At himself for putting any kind of blame on Sam or the innocent human when it was all the fucking Goa'uld's fault.

He jumped up and began pacing, feeling the eyes of the Daniel and Jacob following him before Teal'c passed him his P90, knowing that dissembling, cleaning and reassembling the weapon was the only thing shy of a punching bag that would quieten and centre his mind.

“Sir,” Tymar suddenly spoke as Jack was clicking the magazine back into place twenty minutes later. Jacob went over and hovered by the young Tok'ra's back as they both looked between the striped, ethereal blue of the hyperspace window and the navigation screen on the dash. “We are nearing the planet.”

“I see that,” Jacob gestured for him to scoot out of the seat and allow him to take control.

Jacob leant over the chair and placed his hands on the red device as Tymar slid from the seat. Jack, Daniel and Teal'c began attaching their bags and weaponry, readying themselves for battle and planting their feet for the emergence from the hyperspeed window.

Tymar stood behind the driver's seat, his hands folded neatly and respectfully behind his back as they jolted into the darkness of space, Jacob quickly cloaking the ship and hanging a hard right to stay off any radars and get into the vicinity of the rings platform on the planet below.

He checked the comm system for any hails and ignored the commotion behind him as a thud sounded and Daniel announced, “...Yeah, he's out.”

“Oh, for cryin'-.”

Jacob turned as far as he could in the seat, seeing Tymar being turned onto his back by Daniel while Jack paced. “ _He's out cold_?”

“He appears to have lost his balance when we left the hyperspace window, Jacob Carter. He hit his head and has rendered himself unconscious.”

“I swear to God, Jacob...!”

Jacob turned back to the consoles, checking they were still cloaked and unseen. “Put him in the hold. I'll deal with him later.”

“What do we do now?”

“Daniel, think you can set the diversions without me?”

“It would be easier with Selmak's knowledge of the layout of the base...” Daniel replied, he and Teal'c hefting the young Tok'ra into the other compartment.

“Someone's going to need to fly this thing, and you're gonna need Teal'c's muscle down there.”

“Daniel, set as many as you can and come to me and Teal'c. Jacob, stay on the radio and come get us when I call.” Jack ordered, before adding, “Jacob, if this costs us Sam...”

Jacob's voice was as steady, angered and determined as Jack's, “It won't.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

They were deposited on the ground and took cover behind towers of heated rock. Jack looked around. It looked as if a mothership had crashed in Sokar thousands of years before and you couldn't quite tell where the ship ended and hell-like lava and rock began. Vast canyons were next to meandering hallways with intricate Goa'uld designs etched into the stone and pillars of dried volcanic rock.

He had memorised the crude map and gestured for Daniel to go left and not die - he hoped the latter could be left unspoken - while he and Teal'c would go right. They synchronised their watches for one hour from then, to be right back at that spot with Sam or not bother. Again, the latter was unspoken but they all agreed.

They broke off, Daniel keeping to the shadows with his zat at his side and a bag held tightly to his back that contained enough Naquadah bombs to blow a pretty sizeable hole in the Hell Ship, as Jack had come to reference it in his mind. Hopefully it could create enough of a distraction that they could grab Sam and get back to the Alkesh with ease.

He and Teal'c followed their route, hiding behind pillars as Jaffa sentries passed and they keyed in codes to open doors and slip through unnoticed. They split up when they reached the room their intelligence had suggested Sam would be held within.

Jack crouched low and ducked his head into the room quickly, holding his P90 close to his chest and ready to shoot. His quick glance told him Carter was in a cage in the middle of the room, sat on the floor and facing the front of the room. Alive.

Still low to the ground, he spun into the room, keeping against the wall as much as possible and out of sight of the two Jaffa he could see on the far side.

She was conscious – he was glad to note – but she looked beaten. Her hair was matted and sweaty, pushed away from her face and revealing darkening bruises and a cut eyebrow. She was being held in a cage approximately six foot long and four foot high – she was able to stretch out on the floor but she wouldn't be able to stand. The metal work latticed in a square and seemed fused to the stone floor.

She was staring straight ahead; exhaustion, anger and confusion flitting across her features as she listened to Pete's voice boom and echo - his unnatural Goa'uld voice - as he had a conversation with someone with whom he apparently wasn't happy. Any response was tinny, as if coming from a speaker system, leading Jack to assume Pete was alone. He couldn't make him out in his vantage, but maybe Sam could help him out.

He looked around and found crumbled pebbles from the walls littered across the floor. He picked a few and cupped them in his left hand, twisting the first tiny rock between his thumb and finger and mentally lining up his shot.

He flicked and it bounced off a metal slat to the cage. He winced at the noise – though tiny – and held his breath, listening for any changes to Pete's conversation as a tell that he was rumbled. There was no change, but Sam hadn't taken the bait.

He tried again, and again apparently hit a rebar but caught her attention this time. Her head flicked to the side, following the sound and eventually finding Jack crouched in the shadows. She looked like hell - exhausted beyond measure, bruised and beaten. Never out but certainly down.

Once she had locked eyes with Jack, she immediately looked back to Pete, so as to not draw his attention to what had taken hers.

She flicked her eyes back when satisfied she wouldn't be caught. Jack gestured to ask if she was okay, walked his fingers across his palm to enquire if she could run if needed. She discreetly shook her head and he watched as she straightened her arm down at her side and held her hand at a ninety degree angle, as if it was flat against the floor. She then, with eyes on Pete, jerked her wrist violently and Jack took from it that her ankle was broken. He leant over slightly and followed the sight of her leg to where her right boot was untied and wrenched open as far as it would allow. _Shit._

Carter then twisted her body slightly and showed how she was holding her left arm to her chest, her fist clenched. She flexed her other wrist and he suspected that the other was broken. _Shit._

He got her attention again and she looked over as much as possible. He made the letter T with his hands and pointed to the other side of the room, then brought his hands to his eyes and made binoculars before hooking his thumb over his shoulder and making an explosion gesture – she flicked a hint of a smirk at his sign language description of Daniel. He then tapped his covered watch and held up four fingers and bunched them into the number zero – forty minutes left for the operation.

She almost imperceptibly nodded, glancing back over to Pete and gesturing by her thigh that two Jaffa were to the left, two to the right and Pete up front. She then began tapping silently on the ground and he realised eventually it was Morse code: -R-C-E-F-I-E-L-D-CA-G-E.

There was a force field around the cage. _Shit._

She was about to tap out something else when she suddenly contorted violently, her body arching and spasming as light emitted from her mouth with a strangled howl. Jack instantly reacted to go to her but jerked back into his hiding space, his hands clenching around the pillar and crumbling the rock into dust. She was released from the weapon's hold and sagged into herself, panting for breath and cradling her injured wrist. It took a beat before she collapsed backwards to the dirt, unconscious and broken.

“Come out come out where ever you are...!” came a request in a sing-song voice. When Jack didn't move, focussing on whether Sam's chest rose with breaths – it did - Pete warned, “Don't make me hurt her again.”

Jack took a breath and rolled out from the shadows, far enough that he was able to zat the two far Jaffa first and then the two nearest before they had managed to train their staff weapons on the moving target.

“Jack. Good of you to join us. I wondered when that may be.”

“Yeah,” he stood up, slapping the dust off his uniform. “Think my invite to this shindig got lost in the mail or something.”

“Or something.” Pete had changed to a golden shimmering robe, the hood of which was up and partially covering his face. It looked different – darker, vein-ier, almost like he was beginning to give up the pretence of being Pete Shanahan. “Have you come to rescue her?”

Jack planted his feet but tried to make it look casual, taking his P90 in his hands and readying it for fire. It was taking everything to not just shoot Pete where he stood, but if there really was a forcefield around the cage, he'd need the Goa'uld alive; for now. “Call it what you will, but she'll be coming with me and you'll be going six... actually is there anything six feet under? Or are we already there?”

Pete's mouth curled into a grimace. He began to pace on his platform, his robe swishing behind him and allowing Jack to look around and take stock. There was a communication tower on the platform and a relay screen behind him, one other exit to the left, opposite where Teal'c was stationed.

“So, you going to tell me or are we going to fall into an awkward silence?”

“Tell you what?”

“Who you are. What your diabolical plan was. Who you're working for. Why us. Etcetera etcetera.”

Pete swished to the centre of the platform, his long sleeves meeting each other and covering what Jack could only imagine was Mr Burns-type 'Excellent' fingertaps behind the shimmering gold threads. “You mean you haven't worked that out yet? I am disappointed in you, Jack. My plan has come to its conclusion. This...” he gestured around him, at Sam in the cage, at Jack standing between him and the Major, “this is exactly what I had planned. I, Ardanach, will go down in history as the Goa'uld who captured and killed the Tau'ri's beloved SG1.”

“Ardanach.” Jack nodded, feigning that he was impressed. “Solid plan. For a second draft.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, it's just I heard you were working for Anubis, got real pissed when he ordered Doctor Frasier and me killed and then you went a little rogue.”

Jack had hit a nerve.

“Sorry I survived that, by the way. Nasty habit,” Jack smiled.

“You are forgiven. Thank you for coming here and allowing me to kill you once and for all. And in front of Samantha Carter no less.”

“Yeah, about that. Not today,” he trained his gun on Ardanach.

“No?” Ardanach played along, his hand hovering over the crystal of his personal force shield device on the back of his hand.

“No. I, well, we,” he gestured to Sam, hoping to keep Teal'c's cover a while longer, “had kinda made other plans.”

The next thirty seconds happened in slow-motion for Jack; it felt like it was between two heart beats.

Daniel set an explosion off in the North East quadrant of the compound, setting off rolling earthquakes and causing dust to flitter from the ceiling and rocks to crumble from the walls and supporting pillars. Sirens blared from all directions, Jaffa horns blasting and sentry feet pounding in the corridors.

Teal'c managed a beautiful, _legendary,_ single gunshot from the shadows that pierced the device crystal beneath Ardanach's poised hand, causing it to fizz and spark before ultimately turning black and useless. All while both jerked and rocked on the violently shaking ground.

Jack lodged a bullet in Ardanach's right knee, causing him to crash to the floor with a sickening howl as blood spurted from the bullet hole. Jack dashed forward, crouching behind the man and locking his head and one arm in a hold that mostly immobilised Ardanach but also allowed Jack, in a heartbeat, to break his neck. _Oh how he just wanted to snap._

Jack breathed again. “Release her!”

“No!”

He tightened his hold, “Now!”

“Jack!” A new voice added to the melee as Daniel rounded the corner and skidded to a halt before the unfolding scene. Teal'c had emerged also, his gun trained on Jack and Ardanach. “We could still save him like we saved Sarah!”

Jack hesitated. Sam lay not two feet away, unconscious and bloody, beaten physically and emotionally and all because of the _worm_ in his arms. But, not the man. The man was a patsy; an innocent made into a host for an agenda beyond the host's understanding. Sarah was doing well, maybe the Pete to the Ardanach could survive too. Maybe-

The decision was made for them for Ardanach's free hand suddenly sprouted the finger laser that had once killed SGC personnel and Martouf. He aimed at Sam and shot a beam before Teal'c or Daniel could shoot, and before Jack wrenched his arms and broke his neck.

The body – Pete - fell limp in his arms and was cast aside as Jack launched himself to Sam.

The laser, an obvious true shot, had been diverted as Jack killed him, landing the beam directly to the lock of the cage and disengaging the shield. The door was ajar and Jack tapped his fingers on the metal bar, testing for the force field, as Daniel ran to his side. Teal'c kept his gun on Pete's body – he didn't trust a dead Goa'uld thanks to the many posthumous Apophis' and Ba'als they had encountered over the years.

Trusting that the shield was down, Jack threw the door open and fell to his knees at Sam's side, pulling her body to rest on his legs. “Carter? Carter!”

“She's out, Jack,” Daniel told him, “We have to leave. The second detonation is due any minute and the Jaffa are going to-”

On cue, the second Naquadah bomb exploded in the distance, the ground shaking even harder as rocks fell from the walls, ceilings, supporting pillars. Deep fissures and chasms raced across the stone ground, splitting the room.

“We have to go!”

Teal'c stepped forward, wrapped his hands around the latticed bars of the cage and pulled. His face contorted as he used all his mortal strength to lift the short cage from the broken floor. It gave way eventually, the sound of moaning steel and stone filling the room, and he flipped it, sending it clattering away from the Jack and Sam and to the far wall. Jack had folded himself over Sam as Teal'c worked, straightening up and tapping her face, trying to wake her.

“O'Neill, allow me.”

Jack looked between Sam, limp in his arms, and Teal'c who could carry her dead weight without breaking a sweat.

“O'Neill,” he warned again, his voice more insistent as a staff blast erupted against the wall near his head - Jaffa beginning to filter in from the other entrance. Jack released her to Teal'c. “You provide cover.” Daniel began to shoot who he could.

Jack took his P90 from around his back, removing the safety and setting his zat into his left hand. “Go!”

Teal'c turned and settled into a comfortable run over the rocky terrain, Sam tucked safely into his bulky body as the roar of tumbling stone followed them. The Hell Ship was collapsing around them and they needed to get back to the rings. Daniel took point, occasionally having to catch up with the Jaffa. The younger man's head was on a swivel, shooting at the oncoming Jaffa, clearing a path to the rings platform.

Jack spun between shooting behind him – deftly running backwards – and at anything that moved around them. “Jacob!” he hollered into his radio over the cacophony of war and destruction. “Get ready!”

Daniel skidded to a halt over the markings for the rings as Teal'c knelt in the centre, covering his huge body over Sam's and hoping the transport came quickly. He was literally a sitting target.

Jack stood in front of him, his back to Teal'c's hunkered form. He had his arms outstretched either side of him, shooting with the gun and zat and picking off Jaffa all around. “Jacob!”

“I'm trying, Jack!” came a muffled reply.

“ _Now, Jacob!”_

Movement caught Teal'c's eye from the North-West quadrant; a glisten of power from the tip of staff weapon. He unfolded a hand from under Sam's legs and took the knife from his thigh holster, sending the weapon spinning through the air and perfectly between the plates of the Jaffa's armour.

“Nice!” Daniel muttered, sending a zat blast in the direction for good measure.

“Jacob!”

“It's coming! It's coming!”

The metallic rings rose around them, as Jack tucked his arms tight to his body.

“You took your damn time!” Jack called as the rings descended and their eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the Alkesh. “Jacob, get us out of here.”

Jack tossed his zat to the now conscious Tymar who caught it deftly and trained it on the rings platform in case any Jaffa tried to hitch a ride.

Jacob sped them away as Teal'c gently lowered Sam in one of the stretchers against the wall and took control of the bridge, allowing Jacob to attend to his daughter.

They were still in dangerous territory, with Teal'c having to use evasive manoeuvres that had the passengers grabbing anything bolted down. Jack and Daniel each grabbed a foot and arm, keeping Sam still on the bed while Jacob did a pre-assessment about whether the hand-held healing device would be effective for her injuries.

Jacob's face was of a father concerned for his only daughter, though his actions were those of a seasoned soldier and sometimes unconventional medic.

“Jacob!” Jack called again, unsure how much his voice sounded like a plead over a request for speed.

Jacob slid the device over his knuckles and held it over Sam's body, his eyes closing and body stilling as he focused.

Jack's gaze flitted between that of Sam and her father, silently pleading for it to work in their favour. He heard Teal'c's voice but missed his words, noting that Daniel apparently understood and left them for the bridge of the ship. Jack took over Daniel's grip of Sam, practically lying across her prone body as the flyer dipped left then right,sparks exploding all over as they took on fire.

Jacob remained placid and focused in light of the chaos as the device emitted the beams over Sam's torso.

They entered hyperspace at almost the same time that the Hell Ship exploded and Selmak's voice announced it was the best that he could do, sitting back on Jacob's haunches.

 

–

It was hours before they landed on the first Tok'ra safe world; Jack and Jacob both sitting defiant vigil over Sam's still-unconscious body.

Jack sat at her feet, his back against the wall of the ship, fighting the lull of exhausted sleep over the gentle roar and motions of the engines as they hurtled across galaxies.

Jacob sat opposite them, watching Jack's refusal of rest and curious, once again, of the younger man's affections for his daughter. Selmak too was wondering. Tymar sat against the far wall, silent, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and cradling his head.

They felt the dip in altitude before Teal'c announced they would soon land. They covered Sam with a blanket and carried her from the ship with Teal'c and Jack taking ends of the stretcher.

Daniel dialled home as soon as they disembarked the Alkesh, Jacob hot on his tail, telling Tymar to fly back to the Tok'ra ship dock and guiding Jack and Teal'c up the ramp to the Stargate.

Jacob hollered “We need a medic!” as soon as he was through, Jack emerging through the event horizon a beat later, then Sam, Teal'c and finally Daniel before the Gate closed and Iris spun into place.

The medics and locum doctor rushed to Sam's side, two orderlies taking the posts of the stretcher from its bearers and leading them through the halls. Jacob's hand fell to Jack's shoulder as they followed.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck. I'm sorry. (In my defense I met Michael Shanks and Ben Browder at the weekend and still haven't recovered from the adorable nor travel.)

It took almost a day for her to regain consciousness. Jack had kept a pretty good vigil by her side, usually sprawled out on the next bed until SG4 had come in hot with arrows protruding from limbs, the small infirmary suddenly filling. He had shifted over to the plastic chair then, pulling the curtain across to shield a fragile-looking Carter from those who had to respect her; and also from those who had to respect him and not see him with his head on his crossed arms on her bed, trying for sleep, his fingertips just barely touching her wrist.

He was back on the adjoining bed when he heard the rustling of her pillow as her head sought to place where she was. He had one arm curled beneath his head, the other resting on his stomach; one leg bent at the knee, the other dangling from the bed. She was trying to focus behind cloudy blue eyes, “Sir?”

He sprung up to her side, “Hey, yeah. Hey.”

“SGC?”

“Yeah, you're back at the SGC. In a hospital bed. You were right when you said you'd broken your wrist and ankle. A few cuts and bruises too.”

She blinked, the action seeming heavy, “Pete?”

He froze. “Erm, listen, I'll get the doc. You've been out of it for a while.”

She gave an almost imperceptible nod but her closed eyes were taking longer to open again. He touched her wrist, confirming to himself that she was alive with the warmth and pulse beneath his fingers, before leaving in search of the Doctor.

The doc only allowed visitors a few hours later. Jack had left the base after telling the doctor and notifying Daniel and Teal'c that she was awake, then sending word through the Stargate. Jacob had returned from the Tok'ra safe world – after having checked on Tymar and giving a few stern words – and sat with her until she awoke again. He was smiling warmly when she finally focussed on him, “Hey kiddo.”

“Hi Dad.”

“You gave me quite the scare,” he brushed her hair away from her face. “How are you feelin'?”

She assessed as she awkwardly shuffled up to a sitting position with a grimace, Jacob shifted the pillows behind her back. She had a cast on her left wrist and her right ankle was plastered and elevated. The knuckles to her right hand her scabbed and bruised, one eye was purple and swollen and she had stitches across a laceration to her cheek and eyebrow. She looked rough, _but_ she had certainly looked worse over the years. “Sore. Mainly embarrassed.”

“You have nothing to feel embarrassed about.”

“Don't I?

“Sam, you took a chance! I'm proud of you! You deserve what your mother and I had, sweetheart.” He watched tears well in her eyes, the pain medication and exhaustion rendering her helpless to her emotions. “I know, Sam. I know.” And he did. He had seen the looks over the years, the symbiotic relationship she and Jack shared as colleagues. He could imagine them as a good fit outside of work, if he allowed himself to think on it as her father and not an Air Force General.

He worried though, of course.

Jack was a stubborn, war-ravaged sonovabitch a lot of the time. He'd seen action that would make even the strongest airman crumple under the strain, so Jacob could imagine – hell, he knew – what the man would see at night; what visceral replays would plague him and loop behind closed eyes.

That wasn't the life he had imagined for his baby girl. His little blue-eyed blondie who loved baking and science and pissing off her big brother. But she was old enough to choose the life she wanted, and the partner, and she knew damn well what and who she would be getting herself involved in with Jack. If she could get the chance.

“Dad...”

“There comes a time when you have to choose, Sam. You deserve to love and be loved in return. You just have to choose to let yourself.”

The tears were falling now, sliding down her cheek. She swiped at the tracks and beneath her chin, cursing their betrayal. “It's not that easy.”

Jacob cupped her face, smoothing his thumb across the path of another tear. “Isn't it?” He brought her forward so he could kiss her forehead, lingering a beat longer before moving away. “I'll see you soon. Be good”

She watched him leave, blinking as she finally allowed a sob to rack through her battered, exhausted body.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Doc Milton released her the next day. She had a stack of pain meds, a chewed-off ear about resting and scheduled appointments with the physical therapist and, much to her protestations, Dr. MacKenzie. Daniel and Teal'c were happy to offer her a ride home, especially considering Jack seemed to be swerving Daniel's calls.

Daniel pulled up outside her home and ran round to the trunk to grab her chair. Teal'c provided a supporting hand to help her manoeuvre herself from the passenger seat and hop into the wheelchair. She scowled at the chair, hating the feeling of dependency it brought with it, but kept telling herself it wasn't for long, only until she could get a walking-cast on her broken ankle. She was counting down the weeks.

Teal'c opened the gate while Daniel pushed her up the path. “You know, we could put a ramp in tomorrow.”

“No ramps.”

“It wont take long to install, and you'll be able to get aro-”

“No ramps.” She was determined she wasn't going to be in the chair for long enough.

Daniel pulled to a stop as Sam stood from the chair, holding out her good hand for Teal'c to support her small jumps up the steps to her porch. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist and easily lifted her to the top step as if she was a bag of feathers. She gave a yelp of surprise and then a giggle, “See? Who needs ramps?” Teal'c gave a proud smile.

She propped herself against the doorway as she fiddled to get her key into the lock, Daniel giving Teal'c a gentle ribbing about showing off. She swung the door open and was surprised to find-

“Jack!” Daniel called, coming up behind her.

“You're out...” Jack announced slightly stunned as he stepped further into the hallway, slowly wiping a strongly fumed rag over his hands and looking her over. The house smelled of fresh paint and sawdust.

“I called you three times,” Daniel accused.

Jack was still looking at her. Staring, really; as if amazed she was up and walking after what she had just been through, and trying to read her mind through her eyes. He jolted himself out of his reverie, but still spoke as if dazed, “I didn't think you'd want to... I fixed the hole.”

She tore her eyes from him – his paint-splattered, faded Cubs tee, loose jeans, mussed hair – to the new section of plasterboard in her hallway wall. She swallowed at the memory of how the hole came to be. “Thank you,” she managed to breathe.

Teal'c stepped forward and offered his hand again, “Major Carter, you should sit.”

She took his hand and hopped to the sofa, Jack clearing a path for her amongst the debris of plastic sheets, paint cans and rags. She sat down with a huff from the exertion as Daniel dragged a coffee table closer and placed a cushion on the edge so she could elevate her ankle. As much as she hated the fuss and dependency, she loved that she had these men to help. These big, important, intelligent men were at her beck and call and she had a well of emotion and pride within her. She'd spent so long fending for herself, fighting the line between independence and loneliness and look at what she actually had?

A part of her questioned how strong those painkillers actually were...

Jack sat down on the other side of the couch, his fingertips touching as he looked at his feet. An awkward silence enveloped them.

“Daniel Jackson, we should leave Major Carter to rest.”

Daniel looked between his three friends before nodding, “Yeah. Yeah. Listen, you call me if you need anything. _Anything,_ okay?” he leant and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, I will.” She smiled her thanks to Teal'c who bowed in response.

She looked over her shoulder as the door closed behind them, her sight drawn away from their retreating figures to the worktable set up in the hall and various paraphernalia of DIY.

His voice brought her back to the room, asking how she was.

“I'm fine,” she replied. She always said that to him, despite the injury or situation, so he had learned over the years to read into her voice if not her words. This time, he heard exhaustion, untruth, hurt and embarrassment. He also noted how she would look away whenever they locked eyes – he projected his own anguish and assumed it was because he hadn't tried to save Pete.

“I didn't think you'd want to come back to the...aftermath.” He listed his attempts at atonement, “I redid the plasterboard in the hall and covered a few holes here and there. I was just about to paint. Seems like you two had quite the battle.”

She was silent for a beat. She had already gone over it all in the debrief with Hammond, and she would be writing her report as soon as she had both hands or a tape recorder. And even though it was Jack she was with, it was difficult to begin the story. “He fell asleep when we got back from the base,” she looked to the chair near the window where Pete had slept, unbeknownst to Sam that he was actually speaking with Anubis. “I was packing my bag and locking everywhere down, making snacks... He woke up when I put my case against the chair.” She had smiled at him, leant for a kiss but he had snarled in response; that was when she knew something was wrong. “He woke up in a _bad_ mood. Started shouting at me about Janet and you, the ruins and the 'Shol'va'. It didn't make any sense. That's when his eyes glowed.”

Jack's hands tensed into fist at his sides, anger flickering like a fire through his veins.

“He landed a punch before I had time to process. I fell over there and he stood over me, so I kicked him in the stomach and got away. I managed a one-two before he threw me against the coffee table. We traded a few more punches. I was shouting for him to stop, that it was _me_ but he just kept... grinning. Like it was a game but it... God, it was creepy. I didnt- I _don't_ understand how it all changed so quickly.

“I got him to the doorway – my gun was in my handbag by the door – and I ducked a punch and kicked him into the drywall.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder to the where the off-coloured patch of new board was waiting to be painted.

“He got out and tripped me before I could get the magazine into my sidearm. I tried to kick him again but he grabbed my ankle and twisted. I heard the bones snap. That's when he beamed us to a ship and then got us to the planet. I'd passed out by then.”

“Carter, I-”

“I apologise, Sir. I shouldn't have got myself in that situation, and especially not the team. I should have seen the signs. I should've-”

He turned fully to her and shuffled closer, grabbing her arm. “Hey, stop it! There were no signs. There was no way to know.”

“...You knew.”

His grip lessened. “I didn't _know_. I just... didn't trust him.” His voice went quieter as he admitted, “I don't think I would've trusted anyone though.”

She swallowed. Her chest depressed with a deep, dark breath; memories of the Za'tarc tests and ubiquitous _room_. “What made you doubt him?”

“He said you had told him about me getting injured at the ruins. I was heading home but my truck gave up on me, so I was in the base waiting for Siler when I, well, I googled him.” He told her everything: about trying to convince General Hammond, then Daniel and Teal'c. The fire trucks outside her place, Jacob, Tymar, what happened after she passed out on the Hell Ship... and how he killed Pete.

“Sam, I'm sorry. Daniel said we could save him like we saved Sarah but he shot at you and I made a decision in that moment to.... I'm sorry we weren't able to bring him back.” He closed his eyes, rubbing at one with his knuckle, his mind plaguing him with the disappointed face she had given him on the ramp when he signed the death warrant of Alar as he impacted the Iris. He couldn't bear to see her look at him like that again. But he deserved it. He had killed her boyfriend; he had added to the list of her partners who had died. She'd had so much death in her life and he had made her endure another-

It hadn't even factored in for her that he might feel guilty. She was so sure he would be pissed at her.She held his hand tightly, her fingers pressing into his skin. “You did what you had to.” 

He felt like he had taken his first breath in nearly three days, since finding those internet search results. He looked for any sign that she was just telling him what he needed to hear, but saw only earnest emotion in her sparkling blue eyes. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her gently into him. “I'm so sorry this happened, Sam.” He could feel her steeled resolve falter as she began to cry.

He pressed his cheek into her hair, holding her to him in their awkward positions. It was only now he realised the harsh light beginning to come through the windows as the night encroached and street lights come on. They had been speaking for hours. Her hand on his back began to caress lightly, her body relaxing against his embrace as her tears subsided.

She was aware of his hand on her thigh, his long fingers spread across the expanse of her jeans. She was also very aware of the throbbing in her ankle and wrist as the painkillers started wearing off.

“It's getting late,” he murmured, reluctantly pulling away a short while later.

She nodded, swiping at her eyes and flexing the fingers of her bad hand with a grimace.

“Pizza?” he offered, assuming she was due pain meds and knowing they couldn't be taken on an empty stomach.

“That sounds amazing.”

“I'll order, you rest,” he wrenched himself up from the sofa and began clearing up the debris on his way.

She settled into the cushions, her eyes closing as she cupped the dark blue cast and flexed her fingers.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

The graveyard was packed. A full police funeral had been arranged, Pete Shanahan's colleagues lining the route of the hearse and his partner making a speech. General Hammond, the President and the I.O.A had managed to concoct a story and corroborating evidence to imply that Pete had been kidnapped and killed by the gang mates of Rogelio Diaz, the body he had been investigating when he had been reported missing. Sam didn't begin to understand how they had been able to convince the entire Denver Police Force, but she was thankful he was being given a proper funeral; a hero's funeral.

She was stood off from the congregation, shaded beneath a giant oak tree. She hadn't worn her dress blues, deciding it may provoke too many questions about why a decorated Air Force Colonel and General were attending the funeral of a Denver detective. Jack was in a dark suit with his usual aviator sunglasses – devastatingly handsome as ever – while she wore a dark dress, long coat and walking cast boot on her right leg.

The I.O.A had mingled in with the mourners to ensure the official story of Pete's death was maintained and any doubts were being allayed. It also meant that Jack couldn't take her hand as they lowered the coffin or hug her as they all dispersed. They settled for standing a slight too close, their shoulders touching – a way they had symbolically held hands many times over the years.

They walked back to his rental car over the grass, meandering through the grave stones and parked cars until they could escape to the air-conditioning.

“You okay?” he asked, sliding his hand around her leg and squeezing her knee.

She entwined her fingers in his and stroked her thumb over his skin. “I didn't actually know him. The Pete they just...” the word 'buried' seemed wrong considering it was an empty casket. “That wasn't who I knew.”

He watched her gaze distance as she began the questioning again – who did she know? Did she even know Pete at all? The young symbiote had used Pete's persona, his personality to woo her, but was it actually him? Did she love him? _Could_ she have loved him? As much as she was somewhat loathe to admit, meeting with Dr MacKenzie had helped her. Their appointments were gruelling – especially at the beginning before General Hammond had told her she had to actually speak to the shrink if she even entertained the thought of rejoining SG1.

That was another question for her – could she trust herself to go through the Gate again? She had just fucked up on a monumental scale – personally and professionally – was she worthy of the programme any more? Could she trust herself to not put her team at such risk? She and MacKenzie hadn't even broached her soul-crushing guilt over Janet yet...

Jack squeezed her hand, forcing her back to the present. He didn't want to ask her if she was okay again – of course she wasn't. The need to read her voice was becoming less, however; her usual answer of 'I'm fine' was often replaced with truth now.

She gave him a soft smile and he could see the work she was putting into making it. He tightened his hold on her again and took his hand back, starting the car and beginning their journey back to the Springs. He found his way onto the highway and, though on a straight-route back home, turned on his right blinker around Exit 185 and took them on a scenic route through the state.

Trees, dirt and fresh air followed them for miles; she lowered her window and allowed the arid air to whip around her, her face upturned to the sun. He flicked his eyes to her when comfortable on the road, happy with his decision for a detour. She knew this route from rides out on her bike, but it was different to be driven down it, especially as she left her ordeal back the way they had come.

He pulled into a rest stop near Deckers; green trees and red dirt all around with a river on the other side of the road and a small building lined with motorbikes. He trotted around the car and offered her a hand as she manoeuvred herself in the dress, boot and wrist cast - the latter now sporting a crude drawing of Marge Simpson she had woken with one morning, on which he blamed the dark blue colour of the plaster being the exact shade of Marge's hair. “Food?”

“Yes, please.”

“One last thing...” When she was upright, he moved his hands to her cheek and hip and kissed her.

She was a little stunned at first – it wasn't their first kiss but it was their first in public. Their first had come after the appointment with McKenzie when she had actually opened up. He had taken her to the cabin for the weekend, telling her if she was going to be Earth-bound to rest and recoup, she might as well do it with fresh air and midgies. He had cooked, they had sat out on the deck to look at the stars and she kissed him. If it wasn't for everything else, it would have been downright romantic.

It took her a beat to melt into the kiss, tilting her head and grasping at his coat lapels while her still-encased hand bunched his shirt around his back, feeling the warmth and strength in his skin. The car was hot against the thin dress but it could have been a roaring fire and she wouldn't have cared.

His fingers threaded into the hair behind her ear, manoeuvring her face as he deepened the kiss. Her grip curled further into his clothing, wishing the barriers were gone as he sighed into their embrace.

Her voice was husky, breathless as she said his name, tucking her head into his neck and breathing in his masculine, spicy scent. A car had driven past, the noise of the engine penetrating through the lust to remind her that she was too old to be making out against a boy's car in broad daylight – even if the boy was in his fifties.

He held her, arms encircling her with little to no cares about who saw. Part of him didn't even care if the I.O.A were out here too. She was solid and soft against him, around him. They were content to just stand there, life continuing around them.

She curled her fingers in his, “C'mon. Let's eat then you can take me home.”

He smiled and allowed himself to be lead. “Yes ma'am.”

 


End file.
